Monday night. The night when fear moves into my heart and my palms start to sweat. Every week, I send Hubster into the cold, dark night, making him risk life and limb so that I don’t have to. Some might brand me a coward, but others would call it self-preservation.
A true survival of the fittest tale.
I know I am not alone. Every week in households across the world, husbands and wives are debating whose turn it is to risk their life so the rest of the family can survive. Ready to battle it out with racoons, bears, feral cats, the dreaded possum – but lurking in the darkest part of night is the most feared creature of all. The velociraptor.
Garbage night is not for the faint of heart.
As Hubster rolls the bins from the backyard to the front of the driveway, I carefully play lookout – any movement in the shadows must be evaluated carefully and quickly. Lola is the ears of the operation. Since I’m deaf and don’t trust my hearing aids in a time of crisis, it’s best for Hubster’s safety to appoint someone else to the task.
Lola is very invested in her Daddybeast’s safety since he feeds her larger portions than I do.
I haven’t spotted any velociraptors in the driveway… yet, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen. Everyone knows the movie people are very good at predicting the future and I’ve seen Jurassic Park. In order to keep Hubster sharp, sometimes I yell out ‘RUN!’ at the top of my lungs and watch with glee as he races towards the door.
Hubster is fast, I’ll give him that.
Unfortunately, he seems to lack the proper motivation that a true ‘run for his life from a pack of velociraptors’ moment will require. I may need to add some obstacles for him to conquer on his next trip – a few sticks of dynamite and piles of slippery dog poop should do it.
I’ll get his survival rate above 80% by the end of the year.
I also tweet like a bird on Twitter @HeatherKeet
Lola and I opened a store so we can sell our funniest blog sayings on cool stuff. Check it out at Shank You Very Much